To Motown, and back

Monday, November 21, 2005

From Uppsala to Motala, Sweden is a good three to four hour train ride depending on how many transfers you have to make. The landscape out the window is not unlike, say, northern Minnesota. But I don't think it sunk in that I was completely in another world until after Nilla and I were picked up from the train station by her father and driven immediately to the resting place of a Swedish conqueror. I stood on the burial hill overlooking a few farms and churches. I was in rural Sweden for the first time. The air was that clean and cold kind that makes your eyes blurry. It was easy to breathe.

All of my jaunts around this country have been to the larger cities to play shows. This was my first weekend of really just seeing Sweden for reasons that had nothing to do with load in times, soundchecks or complimentary crates of beer. Motala, Nilla's hometown, was our destination. Our guide was her incredibly kind and intelligent father. The reason for stopping by the burial hill? Simple. He had just finished a book about the historical figure and wanted to see the plot of land for himself. In the scheme of it all it seemed that the burial hill was on the way home although I have no idea if it was.


We arrived at their house soon after. I was treated to a salmon dinner and enough cocktails to tire out any weary traveler. After a night of solid, and at times broken, conversation we needed sleep. We had a full day ahead of us.

Saturday afternoon I was taken on a tour of Östergötland, the region where Motala is located. Nilla's father drove us around curvy roads at breakneck speeds, always to a destination full of historical significance. We browsed the tangled web of tales cast by the 9th century Rök Stone, crept through the grassy corridors of the Alvastra Monastery, peered over Lake Vättern from atop Omsberg's Västra Väggar and strolled around the old timey streets of Vadstena. Here, have a look:


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Saturday evening Nike and I chilled out before dinner with Nilla and her parents. We enjoyed all of the amenities of home and even caught a football game on one of those flat screen TVs! Manchester United easily victorious over Charlton. Anyways, by Sunday night we were back in Uppsala. I welcomed the traffic of students at the train station and the bustling city center. But getting out into the small towns and open spaces was a nice change for a few days. We'll be back to Motala for Christmas. For now, there's a life to live here. Details forthcoming.

4 Comments:

At Monday, November 21, 2005, Anonymous larissa said...

That monastery is beautiful, and it's nice to know my dad isn't the only one who wears socks with sandals.

 
At Saturday, November 26, 2005, Anonymous Aunt Suz said...

Hi Mike!
Sounds like you are really enjoying yourself! Your adventure is sounding awesome! Thanks for the great pics! Suzie

 
At Tuesday, November 29, 2005, Blogger mike downey said...

i'd like to welcome my family to our blog world. i bought aunt suz an iron cross on the st. charles bridge in Prague last summer. i love when i can incorporate my family back home with what i'm doing over here. all are welcome, let's enjoy this together!

 
At Saturday, December 03, 2005, Blogger ica said...

Amazing photographs.

 

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